


For The Taking

by Anonymous



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Adult Bjorn, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bjorn is all grown up, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:03:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bjorn likes Athelstan. He really does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For The Taking

**Author's Note:**

> i totally ship ragnar/lagertha. and lagertha/althestan. and althestan/ragnar (of course).and floki/lthestan. and rollo/althestan/ and some non-con floki/rollo (which has yet to come up...)
> 
> and i started bjorn/althestan. because i can. if you don't like it don't read it, you have been warned, if you click it anyway it's your own fault you irresponsibl twat.
> 
> Kann auch [im Tumblr ](http://pandeimos.tumblr.com/post/48066001668/for-the-taking-bjorn-althestlan-warnings-in-tags-not) gefunden werden :)

“Please…please… oh Heavenly Father, please have mercy…”

Athelstan’s head fell back, eyes shut tightly, throat wrecked and sore.

The broader body above him continued his relentless pace, smothering him with wide shoulders and thick arms. Cheeks that had been smooth but a year ago now rubbed his own coarsly. Lips assaulted his own, harsh words replaced by a raw, needy physicality. One hand grabbed his jaw and forced it open, blunt fingers pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Rough nails scratched his sides, and Athelstan choked on a moan, breath squashed out of his torso as his legs were lifted and parted even further, muscles burning in his thighs and stomach, and he sobbed. The younger man took the opportunity to shove Athelstan’s arms out of the way and pull his hair back, far back, to expose his throat for the taking.

Just when Athelstan had th mind to breathe with the thrusts Bjorn yanked him upwards by the waist and slammed him into the wall, with his entire body, torso to torso, pelvis to pelvis, lips to lips. Whatever air that wasn’t pushd out of his lungs by upwards thrusts was sucked out by the young man’s eager mouth upon his own.

Athelstan reached out and buried his hands in Bjorn's head, ocasionally moving down to yank at his beard, In responce Bjorn would tweak at his nipples, coaxing out more breathy moans to swallow. The pulls to his beard enflamed him, he reached down to separate the cheeks of his buttocks, softness overwhelming in his palms. The monk's knees jerked and his feet dragged across the furs in response to the wandering hands, and he shouted when Bjorn pressed his nails into the flesh, scratching the muscles stretched widely around his member.

Skin slippery and drenched in sweat, they clamoured to each other, fingers stretched wide for friction and nails digging in for support. Bjorn let himself be pulled in by shaking arms, forehead on the wall while his lover's rested against his shoulder, his own fingers stretched wide and grasping the thighs around his hips, arms tensing and bunching from refraining from tearing his lover's skin apart.

When they collapsed, Athelstan disentangled himself from stifling arms for some air to breathe. Bjorn had other ideas, crawling after him and gathering him in his arms. Chaste kisses disarmed older man, and he slowly relaxed into the embrace.

Northmen were tall men, tall and blond and reverberated with power and stregnth in width and height, yes far too blu eand hair far too golden to b mere mortals, Athelstan felt quite humble where he was, smothered by the younger man. Somewhere in the last four years Bjoprn had shot up and out, chest and shoulders widening, voice deepening, anger tempering. Athelstan hadn't noticed, not until that hunter's gaze focused on him, the figure crowded him into a corner, arms pinned him into place.

So young, Bjorn was still so young and impulsive it frightened Athelstan. Bjorn was still but a boy, three years previously he barely reached the priest's shoulder, his charge, his master's son, his responsibility - he felt a crade robber, anda  traitor to his friend's kindness.

Bjorn rolled over onto his bedmate, hips moving with renewed interest. Athelstan arched his back, head dropping in defeat. Bjorn, nearly as tall as his father with more time to grow yet, humping his cock into Athelstan's crack, was a man in body and desires, while his boyish impatience had persevered.

Althestan shifted and squirmed, trying to put some distance between himself and the amorous adolescent, who used height and weight and combatative prowess to his advantage. The monk was imprisoned in the carnal embrace of an essence of manhood in mi-bloom.

He was not getting free.

**Author's Note:**

> also, hello! i am aph, i specialise in stuff not many people would dare write without blushing, and the occasional rare pairing :) so far: 1 Vikings, 20-odd Hobbit fandom (brothers ri rub me the right way)
> 
> comments are welcome (especially since this is a new fandom ♥)
> 
> welcome to Operation Mindfuck.


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